


Thunderstorm

by PurpleArmadillo



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Cute Kids, Family, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArmadillo/pseuds/PurpleArmadillo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A second bolt of lightning illuminated the room and Silver buried his face in Giovanni's sleeve. "I don't like thunderstorms," the little boy's voice was muffled slightly by the fabric. "They're scary. What if the lightning gets me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunderstorm

**Author's Note:**

> In the beginning, I like the imagine that Giovanni was a better father before he got too involved in Team Rocket. So have a cute family bonding moment! I don't specify Silver's exact age here, but he'd most likely be around five.
> 
> Disclaimer: All rights belong to Game Freak, Nintendo, and the Pokemon Company.

“Daddy?”

Giovanni glanced up from his seat at the kitchen table to find Silver standing in the doorway. “You should be in bed. It’s late.”

“You’re still awake,” the little red-haired boy pointed out, yawning and rubbing one eye with his free hand; in the other he held a big stuffed Charizard.

“I’m an adult. I’m allowed to stay up late.”

Silver shuffled quietly into the room. “Then I want to pretend I’m an adult too.” He stood on his tiptoes and craned his neck, trying to peer over the top of the high table. “What are you doing?”

“I have a lot of paperwork I need to finish. Now go back to bed.” Giovanni returned his attention to his pen and resumed writing.

Silver stood there for a moment, wringing his hands. Then he turned and began dragging another stool over with loud scraping noises. “What’s paperwork? Can I do it with you?” He clambered eagerly onto the seat beside his father and plopped Charizard onto the table.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to go to bed.”

“But what’s paperwork?”

“Silver.” Giovanni paused long enough to fix the boy with a stern look before pointing to the hallway. “I’m not going to say it again.”

Silver dropped his gaze to his lap. “But…I can’t sleep. What if I have a nightmare again? That’s why I came out here.” He began poking at the Gym Badge designs on his pajama pants.

Giovanni sighed tiredly and put his pen down. “Tell you what,” he said, “why don’t you head back to your room, and I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

The boy shrugged in response. “I’m not very tired anymore. Can I watch TV for a little bit? I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“All right, but only for half an hour. Then I’m coming to get you.”

“Okay.” Silver grabbed Charizard, climbed down from the wooden stool, and trotted off in the direction of the living room.

A few seconds later, Giovanni heard the low murmur of the television in the background, and he lifted the pen again as he started on a new pile of paper. Several minutes went by. A faint pattering on the kitchen window indicated it was beginning to rain outside.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Silver, what is it? I thought you said you were going to be quiet?”

“How come this guy’s not wearing clothes?”

Giovanni’s head snapped up at that. He nearly tripped over the leg of the chair as he got to his feet and hurried down the hallway to the living room. He found Silver lying on the couch, staring at the television with a confused frown, and he quickly blocked the screen by standing in front of it. Giovanni snatched the remote control from the boy’s hand.

“That’s a program for adults,” he said, changing the channel while Silver tried to peer around him.

“But I’m pretending to be an adult, remember?”

“Yes, well, you’re not watching that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,” his father stated simply. “Here, you like this show, don’t you?” He stepped aside from the TV; there was a man in a green striped shirt dancing with a small blue dog. When Silver nodded his head, Giovanni turned to leave.

“Daddy, where are you going?” The boy peered after him. “Can you stay and watch with me?”

“I’m busy with work.”

“…You’re always busy. You never do anything with me anymore. I never get to see you. When I wake up Petrel or someone else is here to babysit me.”

Giovanni paused halfway out the doorway, and looked back over his shoulder; Silver was watching him with a greatly dejected expression, hugging Charizard close against his chest. The boy lifted a hand to wipe the corner of his eye, and he stared at the wet spot on his fingers before shoving them beneath his leg. His cheeks colored with embarrassment.

“Silver.”

“I-I know; I shouldn’t cry because I’m a big boy now. I just meant…I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Silver,” Giovanni repeated, his tone quiet and his face unreadable. “I’m not mad.” He leaned against the doorframe as the boy glanced up in surprise. “You’re right – I haven’t been able to spend much time with you lately. It’s not always so easy being the boss of Team Rocket, you know.”

There was a pause; then Giovanni’s deadpan softened and his mouth pulled up in a small smile. “So, what was this show of yours called again?” he asked, pushing off from the door and reentering the room.

A huge grin spread across Silver’s face and he scooted over as his father joined him on the sofa. “It’s called _Blue’s Clues_ ,” the boy said. They watched in silence for several minutes as a bunch of inanimate objects with smiley faces sang together.

Then without warning, a bright flash came through the living room’s window drapes, followed by an earsplitting crack of thunder that made both of them jump. Silver let out a frightened gasp, squeezed Charizard by the neck, and huddled against Giovanni’s arm.

“It’s just a thunderstorm.” His father peered down at him. “You can stop choking your little friend.”

The boy loosened his death grip on the stuffed Pokémon. A second bolt of lightning illuminated the room and he buried his face in Giovanni’s sleeve. “I don’t like thunderstorms,” Silver’s voice was muffled slightly by the fabric. “They’re scary. What if the lightning gets me?”

“You’re safe inside the house.” Giovanni reassured him. “Nothing’s going to get you. Now come on – you’re missing Mr. Green Shirt find a clue.”

Silver peeked over his father’s arm at the television. “His name is Steve. Aren’t you paying attention?”

“Of course I am,” Giovanni nodded, mock-serious. “I’ve learned a lot in the past five minutes.” He pointed at the screen. “I know the dog’s name is Blue, and that he likes to leave paw prints everywhere.”

That earned a small laugh from the little boy. “Blue’s a girl.”

“Oh.”

They watched Steve draw with a crayon in a little notebook while he sat in a large red couch and spoke to the camera.

Silver tugged excitedly at his father’s sleeve. “This is my favorite part! He draws all the clues now.”

Unfortunately, they never got to see that part; another blast of thunder rattled the building before the power went out, plunging everything into total darkness. Giovanni yelped in pain as Silver cried out and clutched his arm extremely tight. With some difficulty, he managed to pry himself free and he stood up.

“Daddy? Where are you going?” the boy’s voice shook. “I-I’m scared.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to find a flashlight.”

A new flicker of lightning revealed Silver’s terrified expression. Then the room went black again. “Can I come with you?”

“Stay here,” his father ordered. “I left the flashlight in the basement, and I don’t want you tripping down the stairs in the dark.”

“But what if a monster gets me while you’re gone?”

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got Charizard to protect you. I’ll only be gone a second.”

“…Okay.”

Of course, it took Giovanni well over a second to stumble blindly through the dark house, guided only by his hands and the sporadic flashes of lightning. After stubbing his toes on about twenty unknown objects, and nearly breaking his neck going down into the basement, he finally found the flashlight sitting on the washer. Snatching it up, he immediately turned it on. The bright beam of light made the return trip much easier, and he stepped into the living room two minutes later with no further stubbed toes.

But the boy wasn’t on the couch anymore, nor was Charizard.

“Silver? Where are you?” his father called, sweeping the flashlight around the length of the room.

There was a faint reply, “Hiding.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Over here.”

Frowning, Giovanni followed the sound of the voice as it led him to the far wall beside the sofa. It took a moment before he could pinpoint exactly where the voice was coming from; then he shined the flashlight into the gap between the wall and the back of the couch.

“You were gone a long time, and I got scared,” Silver blinked up at him, squinting against the bright beam of light. He was gripping the stuffed Pokémon by the neck again.

“Come on,” Giovanni motioned with his free hand, but the boy didn’t budge. “Silver,” his tone hardened. “Out. Now. Don’t make me come get you.”

“You’re too big. You won’t fit.”

“I can move the couch.”

The boy bit his lip, apparently weighing his options. In the end, he must’ve decided that the thunder wasn’t quite as scary as his father’s anger, because he quickly wriggled out from his hideout and climbed back on the couch. Giovanni sat down beside him once more and rested the flashlight on the coffee table so that the beam pointed in their general direction.

Silver stared at the black screen of the TV as he twirled Charizard’s tail between his little fingers. “I just want the storm to go away. I hate the thunder. It’s so loud.”

“Would you like to know a secret?”

The boy glanced up in confusion at the abruptness of the question. “About the thunder?”

His father nodded.

“Okay. What is it?” Silver asked, shifting his position on the cushion and leaning in expectantly.

“Some people say that a giant flying Pokémon creates the thunderstorms,” whispered Giovanni, and he watched the boy’s astonished expression with mild amusement.

“It must be a really strong Pokémon…” Silver’s mouth hung open a bit. “Even stronger than Charizard?”

“Much stronger.”

Silver’s brow furrowed in thought and he was quiet for a while. “I want to catch it,” he said at length, staring determinedly into the darkness beyond the flashlight’s reach. “When I’m older, I want to catch it. Then it’ll listen to me, and I won’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“It won’t be so easy. You’ll have to be a very brave Trainer.”

“I’ll be the bravest – Hey!” Silver ducked as his father smiled down at him and tried to ruffle his red hair. The boy held Charizard up like a shield. “Don’t make him use Flamethrower on you!”

Giovanni responded by throwing one of the square pillows that decorated the sofa. “What if I use Rock Slide first?”

Silver caught the pillow with his face. “Owff!” He toppled over backward and laughed. “But you’re not a Pokémon! That’s cheating!”

“But I’m pretending that I’m a Pokémon.”

“Fine. Then, I will too. Here comes a Tackle!” Silver pushed himself up roughly and jumped at his father, who reacted fast enough to intercept him in his arms. He trapped the boy on his lap.

“No fair!” Silver huffed as he tried unsuccessfully to break free. “—Oh! The power’s back!”

They both paused as light illuminated the whole room and the television flared to live again. A new episode of _Blue’s Clues_ was on. Giovanni glanced at the battery-operated clock hanging on the far wall.

“All right, your thirty minutes are up,” he said, releasing the boy from the bear hug. “Time for bed.”

“Aww. Okay.”

Silver slid off Giovanni’s leg and onto the floor. He grabbed his father’s hand and dragged Charizard along as he was led through the kitchen, down the hallway, and back into his bedroom. Clambering onto his bed, he made a show of fluffing up his large red pillow before snuggling underneath the blankets.

“Now go to sleep,” Giovanni told him as he lifted the sheets to tuck Charizard in as well. He turned to leave.

“Daddy?”

For the second time that night, his father paused halfway out the doorway, and glanced over his shoulder. “What is it?”

Silver was watching him closely. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Giovanni smiled at him, and the boy smiled back. “Good night, Silver.”

“Good night.”

His father stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him.


End file.
